


No Worries, We Still Have Time (Fictober Submission)

by PerpetualSpinster



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Erik Killmonger Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 10:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16830685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualSpinster/pseuds/PerpetualSpinster
Summary: T'Challa gets ready for his big day with his cousin's help.





	No Worries, We Still Have Time (Fictober Submission)

T’Challa stares at himself in the full length mirror to do some last minute adjustments to his fit. The deep purple fabric clothed his body royally, giving a great contrast to the red, orange, green multi-colored kente scarf draped his shoulders and down his back. He goes over to his bag, rifling through its contents before grabbing ahold of some shea butter to do some last minute moisturization to his ankles. 

“Aye man, you nervous yet?” Erik calls from the bathroom, shaping up his beard.

T’Challa puffs his cheeks. “I don’t think so.”

Erik steps out the bathroom clippers in hand, towel over his shoulder. “Ahh, see, now that is the first time I have heard you sound less than confident, my boy. You good?”

T’Challa sat on a chair on the corner. Leaning his elbows on his knees. “It’s not like I’m not ready. It’s just such a big deal, I think I’m still dreaming about it.”

Erik rolls his eyes going back to the bathroom. “Oh here you go, being all poetic and shit. You love her, right?”

T’Challa nods. “More than anything.”

Erik commences clipping his beard. “Aight then. That’s what these things are all about. Two people loving each other, and making it official to God– or Bast, whatever it is, no judgment. Those two people make a lifetime commitment. Now, I know that commitment ain’t a issue, cuz your wet blanket ass at the bachelor party sure wasn’t up for no loose booty then.”

T’Challa scoffs shaking his head. “I don’t know how many times I told you to not hire erotic dancers to the party. That is your own fault.”

Erik puts down his clippers, wiping his beard down. “And then I call myself being cool with you drinking at least. But low and behold your ass a angry drunk, bout to throw everyone out a damn window for trying to keep you from texting Nakia ‘you up?’ texts. It’s gatdamn ridiculous.”

T’Challa gets up towards the bathroom, leaning on the frame. “Be that as it may, I appreciate your efforts to ensure my entertainment before the big day. Even though you were hesitant to be my Best Man, you have fit the role well.”

Erik smirked at him as he cracked up a jar of beard balm. “Thanks cuzzin! It’s real big of W’Kabi to be taking it so well too.”

“Yeah, especially since _you_ led him astray. He has been my friend for years, loyal, and then you show up-”

“Not my damn fault, I don’t know how many times I gotta say it! I never even put a gun up to his head to ask him to do shit for me.” Erik says emphatically.

T’Challa rolls his eyes. “The amazing part is that is supposed to be an expression but I know you mean it literally. But besides W’Kabi, I would’ve then had Zuri…”

Erik looks at T’Challa for grace. “Come on, dawg. You can’t be dragging the family drama out on your day…actually, I think that’s what they made for.”

“And then it was my Baba…”

Erik points at T’Challa quickly. “Now that one definitely wasn’t my damn fault, chill. Keep shit light and shit. All’s forgiven and water under bridges, right?”

T’Challa sighs, crossing his arms. “We are kin, and that can never change.”

Erik claps T’Challa on the arm. “Aye, in sickness and in health, amiright?”

“That is supposed to be for Nakia and I, not the groomsmen..”

Erik pulls his shirt on, folding his collar and buttoning up. “You sure you ready now? I’m holding you up with my primping?”

T’Challa checks his kimoyo beads. “No worries, we still have time.”

Erik pulls on his jacket, adjusting the fit on his shoulders. “I look like a Fanta girl in this shit. Of all the damn colors in the rainbow, purple had to be the theme?”

“It’s the color of royalty. And it still goes well with Nakia’s green outfit she will be wearing.” T’Challa checks himself in the mirror again, finding piece of lint on his tunic.

“You didn’t see it, right? I don’t know what y’all believe, but it’s bad luck where I come from, to see the bride before.” Erik sits on a chair to put on his shoes.

“I’m aware, but it’s fine. I never saw it, I just know that’s her color of choice; she wears it well…” T’Challa’s mind wanders to his bride’s appearance and figure, suddenly excited to get to see her soon.

“So, purple and green…gonna be a HULK of a wedding then, huh?” Erik says tying his shoes up.

T’Challa looks back at his confused. “Bruce is not attending.”

Erik laughs to himself standing to check himself out once more. “You repping his colors so hard, might as well. Aight, I think we good. Look at us, huh?”

T’Challa and Erik stand side by side, completely dressed in their wedding outfits for the first time. T’Challa smiles seeing his cousin standing next to him, alive and well to see him off.

“Now’s the time, cuzzin. Now look, I’ll give you a little pep talk. Nakia has been your main for a minute, since you were kids. She has had your back and is the only reason you got the throne today.”

“Ayye…” T’Challa protests.

“Come on! Lemme get to gassin you up before you cut me off! So, Nakia saved you because she loves you. She loves you for who you are and that has to be a burden…” Erik chides him.

“Erik….” T’Challa says in warning.

“My bad, my bad. I got more for the toast later anyway. But point is, y’all always had each other, through the worst, which might’ve been what it took to have y’all finally make things official. So, make good on it, aight? Love ya cuz.” Erik holds his arms out for a hug.

“Thank you, Erik. That is kind of you to say. Getting to know you has not been smooth, but I am glad to have taken the time to do it. Thank Nakia for that as well.”

“Man, you better knock her up quick so she stays put, with her spyin ass.”

“Enough! Do you have the ring?”

Erik reaches in his pockets, pulling out the box. “All good. You ready?”

T’Challa smiles, walking past his cousin. “Extremely.”

“Bet! Let’s get you married so I can peep her friends out.”


End file.
